


Lovesick

by Apple_Fairy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_Fairy/pseuds/Apple_Fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want him, just as he is in my dreams. Touching me gently and treating me as if I'm his lover. But I know that is only a dream...Something I wish for but will never come true. I now know the meaning of lovesickness." Set during the alliance. A two chaptered story exploring the feelings of unrequited love and longing with two different people but for the same relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kiku's sickness

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from FF.net. I wrote this story with the aim to explore the feelings of unrequited love and lovesickness. It's a bit sad as a result. First person POV. This is Japan's side.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dreamt of him.

It’s not the same dream either, but he’s always in them, and the theme is the same. Sometimes, we’re in my garden, feeding the koi. Other times, we’re walking down the streets of London, holding hands. Or perhaps I’m cooking dinner for him, as he holds me from behind. As I say something, and he laughs softly in my ear. The setting always changes, the situation, but there’s always that one constant factor.

We’re together. Always, we’re together. And that’s what I like most of all in these dreams, for I want that so much. I crave it so greedily, and I finally get to have what I’ve longed for so long. He holds my hand, he kisses me softly, I am lost in his embrace, and it’s everything I want and even more.

Until I wake up. The bed is cold then, the warmth I imagined is gone and suddenly I feel empty. I am like a teacup, filled to the brim with warm tea, until you empty me out. Something is missing, and I feel uncomfortable and unhappy.

It took me a month to realize I had grown sick. I realized the meaning of lovesickness then, and I realized I was stricken with it. A serious case of lovesickness and for a moment I worried if I would ever recover from it.

The dreams would keep away the sickness. Would heal the symptoms, but when I woke up, when the medicine wore off, I was still as I was before. Madly in love, terribly so, to the point of stupidity.

It was quite a terrible predicament.

It is not forbidden for nations to fall in love. It’s not encouraged, but it’s not looked down on either. It’s just something left to one’s taste, an option, something neutral and to kill time with. However, there have been warnings, yes even I’ve seen them. China told me the stories of what happens when a nation falls in love.

France set an example of what happens when one falls in love with a human. Jean suffered, and so did he.

Italy set an example of what happens when one falls in love with a nation. Holy Roman Empire fell.

China constantly told me ‘Don’t follow those Westerners’ examples.’ He cautioned me to keep to myself, to keep my heart protected. Alongside lullabies and stories, he told me stories of caution, and I grew up on that.

Love never crossed my mind until now.

My heart was protected, my feelings in check until someone broke through my guard. He approached me with roses, and sweet words. Before I knew it, I was running to go see him, then, under a starry sky.

It’s rare that I go against my boss’s wishes. It was odd, even to me, as to why I disobeyed him. But somehow my legs had decided on their own, and although I had no logical reasoning for it, I was extremely happy to hear Arthur wanted the same.

It’s now that I realize it was love.

How terrible. A large change has happened in my heart, and I have been stricken ill with love, but he goes on unaware. Treating me the same as always; making sure I’m okay, enjoying my company. For we are allies and that’s how allies act to each other.

I fear to him I am only that, while I wish for so much more.

I want him. Just as he is in my dreams, I want him just like that. Touching me gently and treating me as if I’m his lover.

But I know that is only a dream. A mere fantasy of mine, something I wish for but will never come true. I am assured he likes my company there is no doubt in that. But whether it’s to the extent that I feel for him, I do not know. But I’m most certain it’s only me who feels like this.

Ah. How sad. If only I could sleep for eternity, and make those dreams my reality.

How sad.

* * *

 

“This is just terrible.”

He sighed next to me, grumbling as he did. Arthur was that type of person, uttering more sarcasm than praise. But that was in his nature, and I didn’t mind it anyway. Together he and I stood under an awning. The streets were bare, but the rain pitter-pattered on. On our way back from the port, in which I had just arrived, it suddenly began to rain. Quickly and hard, and we found ourselves shelter in front of a closed shop. It was chilly, and I felt myself shiver. Ah, the rain was never ending here, and I had yet to get used to it. I had no umbrella on my person, despite Arthur having suggested I bring one.

Perhaps my old age is catching up to me. I’ve become so forgetful these days.

“Are you alright?”

Hearing his voice, I turned my head, and found concerned eyes looking at me. I felt my heart lift a bit. I knew it was ridiculous to be happy from this alone, but I was happy nonetheless to see him care for me, to notice me, to worry about me. It was selfish and childish, but I loved that attention despite all that. Perhaps this is another form of foolishness that comes with being in love.

“Yes; I’m fine.” I nodded, and looked back to the cold grey rain, “I’m just sorry that I did not bring an umbrella with me. It’s rather unfortunate.”

Arthur coughed awkwardly next to me then. Was he getting cold as well? He coughed again, and it was then I noticed he was trying to get my attention. And turning to see him again, his eyes did not meet me this time. Rather he was looking away from me, face slightly flushed, and embarrassed. Once again I could feel my heart jump, and he spoke curtly to me. Still as candid as ever.

“A-Actually,” he sputtered out, “it just so happens I brought mine with me. If you don’t mind sharing it, I mean.”

I resisted the urge to smile then. I was completely lost, honestly, if that alone would make me happy.

“I don’t mind at all.”

The umbrella opened with a loud sound, and he lifted it above our heads. For a moment, I wished he would hold my hand, but shooed such thoughts away. It would be too soon, wanting too much, and I was quite content with this moment anyway.

We began walking, that black umbrella connecting us, our heads ducked, and I stole subtle glances at him.

I was reminded of the love umbrella writing at my home. Placing two person’s names under an umbrella, to show that they were a couple. I was daydreaming silly, nonsensical things, but I loved him and that was my excuse.

I was in love with my ally. And I dearly hoped he was the same. Perhaps too shy to admit it, maybe one day the moment would come. When I could confess it all.

And although it’s much too idealistic, I hoped he would return my feelings.

I cast another glance to him. He caught my gaze, and immediately he turned away. I could see his ears were red.

It was then that I smiled.

* * *

 

The year was 1911. The second renewal of our alliance. It hadn’t been too long a time; although to humans it seemed like such a long time, to us nations it was like a week. But, to myself, I cherished and loved that time nonetheless and hoped it would go on endlessly. I wanted to stay by his side, I wanted to see his smiling face, I wanted to be with him. And so this revival made me giddy and happy. There was a party held, with many of our own important people attending. Lots of talking and wine and the surprising thing was, was that I was unable to see him during the party. Although many people asked if I had enjoyed his company, we were never seen together that entire time.

It was near the ending that I went looking for him. When the festivities were dying down. My boss was going home early, and I told him I could get to the hotel on my own, don’t worry. And assured I would be fine, he left, and I went on search for my ally.

The hallways were dark and ornate. The earlier noises of the party fell away, and suddenly all I could hear were my footsteps on the floor. I sighed, the military uniform I was wearing felt tight and uncomfortable. The various medals shined in the moonlight. Where are you, Arthur? I wondered to myself.

Where are you?

I checked in each room, but found nothing. Only desolate furniture, and unlit rooms. It was a quiet moment then, something lonely and silent. It felt as if I was the only man left on the earth, or perhaps I was lost in a dream.

What strange thoughts. Perhaps I had too much to drink.

Finally, down the hall, I saw a door slightly ajar. A warm, weak light seeped from it. My heart began to pound, at just the thought of seeing him. I hurried over, and opening the door slowly, I was first greeted with the sound of a crackling fire.

It was a small drawing room, with a couch and chair facing in front of a lit fireplace. Book shelves lined the walls, and a mirror sat above the fireplace. A cozy scene, something tucked away from the rest of the cold mansion. It was like an oasis in a desert, I thought to myself. But I did away with such thoughts when I saw who was lying down on that couch, an arm covering his eyes, his jacket thrown across the chair.

My heart jumped in my chest again. _Oh,_ I thought to myself, _there you are_.

I approached him noiselessly, and on closer inspection I could see his cheeks were flushed. Oh. Drunk?

“Kiku, is that you?” He muttered groggily. I was surprised to see he was awake, and Arthur took his arm down from his eyes. His green eyes glittered in the light of the fire, but he seemed tired, and worn out. Seeing me, he gave me a half-ways smile, something cocky. I cleared my throat, hoping the blush did not show in my cheeks.

“I was wondering where you went off to.” I told him, kneeling beside him so we were on the same eye level, “Some people were saying you excused yourself and I came to find you.”

“Is it still going on?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The party.”

“No. It has already ended. Everyone’s gone home.”

He nodded at this for a while, as if to assure himself. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from where I was, and it was then I was certain he was drunk. It’s not as if I hadn’t seen him in this state before; I was surprised though. Usually he would be a violent drunk, starting fights. Other times, he would be a weepy drunk, crying about how things weren’t fair to him.

But now, he was slow and reserved. Did something happen, I wondered. Rather, I wondered again why he left the party in the first place. So, I asked him.

“Hm? Why I left?”

“Yes.”

He paused for a moment and shrugged. “Got a headache. Thought I’d lie down for a bit. Guess my nap went on longer than it should have. Sorry by the way.”

“For what?”

“I don’t mean any disrespect.” He sighed loudly again, and it almost seemed like it was taking his all just to talk; he seemed so tired. “I should’ve been here for the whole thing.”

“It’s fine, please don’t fret about it.”

I wanted to carry him to bed then. Tuck him under the covers, and make sure he got some rest. He seemed so tired and sleepy, and I worried for him. I wondered what he was dreaming about before I got here. Something feverish and strange maybe. Or something scary and too much.

Or maybe he was dreaming about me.

…Oh, what a hopeful wish.

“Kiku.”

“Hm?”

“I…I need to tell you something.”

He propped himself on his elbows, trying to get up, but struggling to do so. Instinctively I reached out to help his tipsy self, but he put a hand up in protest. His face was serious then, strangely so, and he shook his head.

“Hear me out. Please?”

I nodded, confused at his actions. Was he really this inebriated?

“I…Kiku, when you approached me that night,” he gulped, his eyes focusing not on me, but somewhere behind me. “I was really happy, you know. Very, very happy.”

I tried not to blush too hard, but I’m sure he wouldn’t notice anyway, for he wasn’t looking at me at all.

“And I…I just want to tell you something okay? Are you listening?”

“I am.”

Then he stared straight at me, those green eyes I loved so dearly, clouded and unfocused. His words were steady however, strong and sweet.

“I’m glad I met you. And I enjoy your company. Kiku, you’re…you’re a wonderful ally and thanks so much for everything.”

It was as if he had taken my heart and squeezed it, had taken me in general and held me tightly until I could feel him in my soul.

I couldn’t hold back my blush then. I couldn’t stop my pounding heart. Somehow my condition had reached critical with those words alone. It was surprising how much control he had over me, just by being kind to me alone.

Ah, Arthur I am sick. Don’t you see?

He was still staring at me hard, as if he could see right through me. Somewhere, in the perverse area of my mind I wanted him to hold onto me, to kiss me, to do whatever he pleased with me. I shook off these thoughts though, such scandalous thoughts, and I realized he was waiting for my response.

The crackling of the fire made a subtle noise behind us, the only light source in that dim room. As I watched the light dance on his determined face, I spoke shyly, voice wavering with love.

“I…I’m very happy to hear that. I feel the same way, Arthur-san. Thank you…thank you for everything you’ve done for me, I’m in your debt.”

That wasn’t even half of the extent of my feelings for him. Oh, words always seem to hold us back, seem to never be exactly what we want to convey. I dearly hoped he would get my message, understand what I was really saying, but he only smiled. A sloppy smile that was unbalanced and he nodded as if in approval.

“Good. That’s good.”

He flopped himself back onto the couch, and sighed loudly, as if he was done with a particularly difficult task. I sat there awkwardly, unsure what to do, and feeling strangely unsatisfied.

But I hushed that part of me. I should be grateful for this moment at least, and I was, I really was. But I suppose a part of me was being selfish as well, but then again wasn’t that how it was in love?

“Arthur-san?”

“Mmm?”

He mumbled, as if being stirred from sleep. I gulped, and handled this moment carefully not wanting to ruin what I had before. For a moment, I wanted to blurt it out then. Tell him how strongly I felt, explain each and every restless night I had, try to make him understand, and maybe learn he felt the same way. But the moment felt wrong, fell short, and instead I got up, holding a hand out to him.

“We should go. I’ll help you get back home.”

I felt like I had a chance though. Like a glimmer of hope, and I held onto that. The time to tell him wasn’t now. It might not be tomorrow. Maybe weeks from now, maybe months or years. I didn’t worry about it though, because I felt like I would know when the time to tell him was. Something would click, and just fit and I could tell him and it would be perfect and Just the Right Time.

I looked forward to that day, the day I would be cured, the day I would be loved.

* * *

 

Slowly, but surely our days as an alliance were coming to an end. It was something I couldn’t second guess, it was final and undoubtedly going to happen. At this point I was just counting down the days until we would part.

Of course my heart was breaking. Why wouldn’t it be?

“So you understand, right?” He was saying across from me, the meeting table separating us. It was us alone, and his words weren’t clear to me, it was like I was underwater. Sounds were muffled, and colors were dull. I suddenly wished I was back home, all alone, just so I could sort through these desolate thoughts by myself. But I was a nation before I was myself, and here I was. With the man I loved explaining to me why we had to part.

“It’s beneficial for all of us. The best bet would be to just end the alliance now. Don’t you agree?”

My love, what are you saying? I don’t understand. How did it come to this?

“…I assume you find no more benefit from this alliance?”

My voice sounded strange to me, eerily in control. Like I had resigned to this fate and was dealing with it by detaching myself from the situation. A part of me wished I was dreaming again. To be honest, these days I was getting more nightmares then dreams, nightmares of him ridiculing me or leaving me.

I was so smitten it was disgusting at this point. Where was my pride? Perhaps this is another symptom of lovesickness.

Look at him, he looked slightly uncomfortable. He leaned forward, interlacing his hands, resting his chin there, elbows on the table. He closed his eyes and began to talk; halfway through his speech I could tell that there was no place for ‘friendship’ here or anything that got in the way of ‘business’.

“No. My bosses have agreed that to keep up this alliance would be a hindrance. However with the Four Powers treaty all of us would benefit. Do you see? The pros outweigh the cons.”

“…You no longer have us in your interest.”

“I didn’t say that-“

“You don’t need to. I understand completely what you’re saying.”

The words were spilling out then, harsh words that were immature and wanted to hurt him. It was like I was watching myself doing this, this whole scenario unreal and cruel.

I must be dreaming. Yes. Yes this is a dream, and right now I’m angry and not really saying this to him at all.

“Kiku?”

“It’s _Japan_ , thank you.”

He looked at me surprised, somewhat wounded and it made me all the more angry. How dare he look like that when I was hurting? He had no right, no right at all. I was thinking such unpleasant and petty thoughts, but I was dreaming anyway so I didn’t care. I stood up, the chair scraping behind me.

“I understand that you no longer have our interests in mind. Fine then. I see where our relationship stands.”

“Japan, sit back down.”

He was looking at me worried, but also sternly. Like I was a child throwing a tantrum and he didn’t want to make a scene. And maybe I was just throwing a tantrum, but I was convinced so much that this was a dream, that none of this was happening; I just didn’t care anymore.

I just didn’t care.

“I think we’re done here.”

Turning to leave I could hear him calling my name. My nation name, not my human name and it hurt me. Call me Kiku. Show that you still want me. I know you don’t want Japan anymore, but I don’t want England to want Japan.

I want Arthur to want Kiku.

The door slammed shut behind me, and I was surprised to see how much force I had put into that motion. My hands were shaking and suddenly my eyes were stinging. My chest felt tight, and it took me a while to realize I was on the verge of tears. Fearing he would come after me then, and see me in this state, I ran. I ran out of the meeting building, and I had an urge to keep going then. To keep running, to just lose myself in that action, until I couldn’t think anymore. All I was then, was Kiku, someone who was in love, who’s heart was breaking. Running out into the streets, I saw it was raining but I didn’t notice this either. I felt cold, so cold, and lonely and closing my eyes shut, I focused on this alone. The sound of pitter patter, the coldness of the rain on me. I began walking, back to my hotel, holding myself. I must’ve made such a sad image, such a sad and pathetic image. It’s funny, how love can make one shine one moment, then something pitiful the next.

I looked back for a moment. I believe what hurt me the most was seeing he hadn’t chased after me, not at all.

* * *

 

Our alliance ended in the cold of December of 1921.

The Four Powers Treaty was signed, my alliance now with France and America as well. Of course I acted distant towards England then, our relationship bristly. This was exactly how my bosses felt as well, and they advised me to treat my relationship with him cautiously. As Japan I did as I was told, no qualms or questions asked.

But as Kiku, I was hurting.

Not once had he called me by my human name, not since that day I had ran out of the meeting hall. Not once had we spoken on a personal level since then. It’s all been strictly business, scripted lines given to us by our bosses, stern words and topics without emotion. As Kiku, I wanted to reach out to him, ask him where we went wrong, how we could fix it, tell him I still loved him.

The dreams never stopped. Still I dreamt of him treating me as his lover, but they’ve changed in a way. Now, whenever he does, the end is always the same. His behavior changes, he treats me coldly, and leaves. My nightmares have begun overtaking my dreams and now my sickness is worse. I have nothing to quell the symptoms, only something to add extra pain to the illness. I wondered if I would be stuck like this forever, lovesick and aching but never cured.

What a sad fate.

But I still had hope. There was one last chance I had to see if he still felt something for me. It didn’t even have to be anything romantic, maybe just friendship. I already missed those days together, our alliance, quiet laughter, enjoying each other’s company. I still placed faith that he still felt that way, and I had one last chance to see if that was true.

Today it was raining (ah, whenever I thought of him it was always raining; perhaps because the weather reminded me so much of him). He told me he was coming over to pick up some last things, small trinkets he left behind, and after that our contact would be over.

Already I had packed his things in a small ornate box. It wasn’t much; a pocketwatch, some books he had lent me to borrow, various other objects. Now I just waited for his arrival, nervous, ready to gauge his feelings. The thought of confessing my feeling never crossed my mind then, and thinking back on it now that was probably for the better. For if I had just blurted them out then, our situation would’ve been much more terrible.

I watched from the window, the falling rain. Next to my feet, Pochi-kun looked up at me sadly. I should feed him, I thought. But I was keeping a look out for the one I was expecting. I told myself this wasn’t a desperate act, anyone expecting a guest would act this way. But then I remembered I was lovesick and all my excuses seemed so petty then.

For a moment I remember rushing to go see him that starry night. He was so happy to see me, and that happiness made me happy as well. His smiles made me smile, his sadness made me sad. I should’ve been content watching from afar, but I wonder if that quiet devotion is what led to this.

Oh, my love, what happened to us?

It was then, through the fog and grey weather I saw a figure approaching. My heart began beating, racing, I almost feared it would jump out of my chest. Quickly I rushed to the door, checking in the mirror in the entranceway at how I looked. My face looked tired, slightly flushed, and I knew I was being foolish and hoping for too much. But it was my last chance and I allowed myself this much.

When the knock on the door came, I was reminded of the first time he had done that. Holding a bouquet of flowers, nervous and candid. But that was then, and this is now, and I opened the door. This time I was not greeted with flowers, but only a stern face, as he folded his umbrella.

“Good day, Japan.”

I nodded, knowing I should say more, but I just didn’t know what to say. I had words, so many words to say to him, but I couldn’t figure out a way to string them together so that he could understand everything. I think it’s because there was so much, was because I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know where to start, to make him comprehend, so instead I used simple words with no emotion in them.

“Shall I take your coat?”

“It’s alright; I won’t be long.”

_But I want you to._

I wanted to slap myself for thinking such thoughts. I wanted him to stay long. I wanted him to confess he missed me. I wanted us to admit our feelings, and like some contrived ending of a trite love story, kiss and forget all our troubles. To make desperate, tear-stained love and hold onto each other afterwards, whispering sweet nothings like nothing else in the world mattered. But I knew that was only a dream, a futile dream and I only nodded once more.

“Yes, of course. Let me get your things then.”

He waited at the entrance, as I left. Already my heart was aching just seeing him, I was completely at a loss of what to do. I hesitated to get the box; maybe I could tell him I’d misplaced it, invite him in, serve him tea. We could talk of this and that, and…no. I should stop. I should honestly just stop at this point.

This was the end, and I should come to terms with that.

Slowly, surely, sadly I was. Picking up the box gingerly, I began to think about lovesickness and what it meant.

I’ve been suffering from it for years now. When one is lovesick, there are various symptoms: your mind will become full of that person, your heart will race, every thought and feeling will be concerned with them. It borders on obsession really. Mood swings, sweaty palms, a flushed face. These are the symptoms. One can suffer lovesickness for a long period of time. There is a cure however. If your feelings are returned, if the object of your affection falls for you, then you will suffer no longer. Instead of pain and worry, sadness and desperation, there is happiness and comfort. You will be cured, your obsession toned down, and all is well.

…But what happens if you never get your cure? What if the suffering persists?

I feared this the most, for I didn’t know what would happen. Perhaps my symptoms would die down with time. Maybe nothing would really happen at all. But it was the unknown that scared me, the possibility of anything happening.

But I could prevent that. This was my last chance, and although it was slim, I had to try. I was still hopeful, and now was the time.

“I’m back.”

Arthur looked at me dully, turning his head from the mirror in my entrance hall. He looked tired, just as tired as me. Solemn and frowning. Perhaps the rain was affecting both of us. The box felt light in my hands, only adding a bit of weight, the wood warm. I held it out for him tentatively, and he bowed his head a bit in thanks, taking it. Our fingers did not brush, didn’t touch at all.

“Thank you. I’ll be leaving then.”

“Ah, wait!”

He turned to look at me, confused. I had spoken without thinking, but this time all my actions were being done without worry for the consequences. This was my last chance, our last chance, so I tried my best. This moment felt so delicate, so fragile, so very final.

“W-Would you like to come in for tea, at least?” I offered. I could still hear the sound of the muffled rain around us, the sky falling down harshly. He pursed his lips, his dark coat making the scene all the more grey. He shook his head.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“It would be no trouble at all.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to refuse.”

I could feel a pang in my heart. My mind was searching for any more reasons to keep him here, any other excuses. But already he was opening the door, the sound of the rain magnified, loud and rude. My head was pounding, the sound of the rain hurting my ears, all the emotions I’ve kept bottled up swirling around, this entire situation making me dizzy. He nodded again, and said goodbye but I could barely hear him. Opening his umbrella I could see him leaving, leaving me, and suddenly this hopeful moment was ending and I didn’t know what to do.

Wait.

Come back.

Don’t leave.

I…

…I still love you.

It’s then that I knew what to do. This was it, this was my chance. This whole time I’ve been in love, and been wondering when I could tell him my feelings. This whole time I was waiting for that right time, the one moment when it would be perfect and everything would be fine. Everything had been cumulating to this moment, building up, and the spotlight was on me. It was my turn to make a move, and so, with the rain falling so fiercely, with my heart pounding so fast, I ran. I ran after him, the sullen figure under the umbrella all alone.

“Wait!”

He stopped and I stopped as well. We stood there, facing each other, and I tried to catch my breath. So many thoughts and words were swirling in my head, like a typhoon and he looked at me surprised, confused, and I gulped, regaining my composure. The rain was soaking me, and I felt cold, so very cold, but I didn’t care. This was it. My last chance, and I mustered up the words, the courage.

“…Please stay.”

My words hung above us, and I could hear the raw sadness in my tone. I’ve forgotten shame at this point. Of appearing proper. At this point I was just emotions, lots of feelings and love.

“I don’t want you to go. I don’t want this to end. England-san…no, Arthur-san…”

I sniffled, felt my eyes stinging, and there, with the rain hitting us, I said it. Finally, for once.

“I love you. I’m in love with you, Arthur-san.”

Then, silence.

It felt like a weight had been taken off my shoulders, and the world was holding its breath. The time after those words were spoken felt like it had gone on forever. I dared myself to look up at him, to see his reaction, as I held back tears. Would he be smiling? Would he tell me he too loved me, he felt the same? Would he look shy, perhaps, embarrassed? But what I saw instead, broke my heart so much.

He looked disgusted.

Or more so, disturbed. Like I had told him something strange, and his face settled into an expression of distaste and uneasiness.

“You…you love me.”

“Yes.”

My love, don’t look at me like that. Please, stop. This isn’t going how I thought it would at all. But perhaps infatuation makes us blind and makes our expectations high, and this whole time I’ve been wanting too much. He’s not obligated to love me, just because I love him. This was just how life was, sometimes, and that hurt.

I was hurting so much.

“J-Japan…Kiku…”

He frowned, looking downward, composing his words. I could feel the cold biting into my bones, but I waited patiently for his verdict, for what he would say. I could see the end at the horizon then, and slowly the space between me and it closed. This was it. My infatuation and love, all these feelings, this was it. He looked up at me, and no longer did he look unhappy. But his eyes were clear with pity.

“I don’t regret our alliance. Our friendship…that really did make me happy. But…”

He shook his head, frowning.

“…I never felt that way for you. I’m sorry.”

It was like he had crushed my heart then and there.

I felt numb to the rain, to his words, and when he saw I wouldn’t respond, he shifted himself, uncomfortable and awkward with the situation. He walked towards me, though, and taking my hand, he placed his umbrella in it. He backed away from me, and with a low voice said: “I’m sorry, Kiku. It’s over.”

And then he turned and walked away, into the rain, ducking his head down. He was gone, before I knew it.

The rain pitter pattered on the black umbrella he had given me (which I noticed later was the same umbrella we had taken cover under those many years ago) and it’s then that I realized what comes after lovesickness.

When one cannot get a cure, the symptoms will persist. And finally at the end, the fatal end, your heart will break. It will just break and hurt, and the pain will die down with time, but it will indeed break.

And I could feel it then. My heart breaking. Finally, I cried, and collapsing onto the ground, his umbrella protecting me, my lovesickness finally came to an end.

Then I felt nothing at all.


	2. Arthur's sickness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The same premise as before. First person POV. This is England's side.

I’ve forgotten a time I wasn’t in love with him.

I know it’s completely mad to say such a thing, for there was indeed a time when I didn’t know him, and surely I must remember that. And I do, I really do, I do have memories prior to it; I am immortal after all. However it all seems so…oh, I don’t know… _dull_ , compared to now. If that makes any sense. What I feel for him is so intense, so _strong_ , it’s frightening in a way.

(Oh, blast it all, I probably sound so clichéd.)

There’s just no other way to put it! I mean yes, I could go into deep detail how it feels like to be in love. I could explain how, every single time he smiles (his smiles are soft and subtle, so very beautiful) that I feel like the world falls underneath me. I could indeed tell you how with every look, every quiet sigh, every word spoken I just fall harder and harder and harder for him. How I long to touch that milky white skin, how I want to run my fingers through his black hair, how I want to breathe him in. I could say so much, in such inspired detail, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m in love. Tear away all those pretty words, and the romantic fervor, and at the base you see I’m just a man, madly in love. And while this story is a tale as old as time, something that’s been told so many times before (I should know with how many romantic writers come from my place), there’s one problem.

Say I was just a man in love with someone else, it should be fine right? Just tell them, hope for the best, and if they refuse me, then I tried, right? No, no it’s not that simple this time around. It’s not a problem that I’m in love; it’s the fact of _who_ I’m in love with.

A fellow nation, an ally, Japan.

Now, see, if it was a human, then that might be fine. It’s not unheard of us nations taking on lovers (the frog being a fine example). Just have a fling, have your fun, and then extract yourself from their life as cleanly and quickly as possible when the time comes. They will be nothing but a memory, but at least you got what you wanted. Yes, it sounds heartless, but under our circumstances, can you blame us? See, if Kiku was human, maybe this would be easier. But he’s a nation.

And here’s the thing about falling in love with a fellow nation.

You can try. Oh yes, if both sides are willing, you’re free to _try_ really. But in the end, you’re still someone who represents your people and their beliefs before anything else. Your own wants and needs may be considered, but ultimately you live as a symbol and must abide by your people’s wishes before anything else. Now, with that in mind, consider for a moment our relationships with each other. Sometimes, we are allied (as I am so luckily, at this moment with Kiku), sometimes we are raising others as our colonies, and sometimes our relationships are neutral, staying cleanly out of each other’s way.

And sometimes we are at war.

Relations can honestly change at the drop of hat, at the whim of a boss, at the disagreement over something petty. Then we must fight, and anything before then is quickly forgotten. Things like this happen a lot, which is why I like to keep a healthy distance from fellow nations. I mean, I’m not one to _completely_ extract myself from the others, and I don’t always shy away from gatherings. But deep inside I know this is all temporary, so I stay on my little rainy island and just watch. I don’t like getting close, because I’ve been hurt before.

( _In the rain, a revolution, and that’s all I’m willing to say_.)

And that’s not just me, to be honest. It happens to all of us. Yes, we have fun with each other, but we always keep a safe distance. There’s a certain wall none of us can breech, and that’s understood. An unspoken understanding. Relations change at the drop of a hat.

Love is not discouraged, but it’s also not understood. Why even bother? I mean, yes, if you just want to sleep with each other, then sure, all’s the more power to you. But if you want the type of romance that’s thoughtful, pure, and deep, then we wonder: ‘Why even bother?’

You’re only setting yourself up to be hurt. That person could be your enemy a month from now. And even if they promise you nothing like that will happen, you also have to consider their boss and what they want. We’re bound to follow our rulers, our people; we are not free to love so carelessly. There’s too many risks involved, so why even bother?

Which is what I asked myself, awake in my bed, the stars shining brightly just outside my window. Japan…no, Kiku was staying over that night. The night we had agreed to make the alliance. His house was too far away to make the trip back, it was too late, so I offered him to spend the night at my place. And in a guest room only three doors away, he laid himself to sleep. I hadn’t been able to sleep that night, heart pounding furiously, and I smiled the whole while. He had wanted to make an alliance. With _me_! He felt the same, he wasn’t going to end up my enemy. God, I felt like I was on top of the world. I was much too happy to even consider sleep, replaying the moment over and over in my head. The moment in which he called out my name softly ( _such a beautiful voice…_ ), had explained all flustered how he wanted to be with me ( _so cute, too cute)_ , and finally how we gazed into each other’s eyes ( _warm eyes, beautiful eyes I could stare into forever…_ ). I grinned to myself and hugged my pillow, face flushed, and shivers ran up my spine. It was then, for one dreadful moment, I realized what was going on.

I had fallen in love.

Suddenly all my happiness fell away and all I felt was dread. Dread and shame, and I tried to dissuade myself. No, no, this can’t be love! Not so soon! Yes, this is only admiration, I told myself, this is all platonic and not romantic _at all_. And so, I had convinced myself that for awhile, but as my days with Kiku grew on, slowly I was realizing this wasn’t just admiration. I understood, sadly, that this was love. Because I wanted him. When I found quiet moments with him, like us sitting on the veranda of his house, I found myself wanting to hold him. Just wrap my arms around his small frame, and bury my face into his hair, and breathe him in. I could excuse that away; embraces could be friendly, yes, I just saw Kiku as a friend. I could also remember one time where we both took comfort by the fire of my study, as he read some of my country’s literature, and I sat at my desk doing paperwork. As I adjusted my reading glasses to see him better, I realized I wanted to walk over to him and kiss him then. Just grab him by the back of his head, and kiss him, enough to make him moan. My face instantly turned red at the thought, and I ducked my head down, back to my paperwork. He hadn’t noticed a thing. However, with the warmth spreading through my body, I told myself over and over that kisses were friendly. Just friendly pecks on the cheek and that’s it, really. (I pushed aside the want for a lustful kiss, the one I really wanted.) But it was in the bath, the bath at his home, both of us vulnerable, and soaking, just talking that I realized what I wanted. We spoke of sensitive subjects that night, he confessed his worries and stress, and I mine. We connected that night, and with my heart beating and my feelings tender, I realized I just wanted to grab his wrists then, and kiss him, and to make him mine. To bend him over the ledge, and to make our breathing shallow and to whisper quick words of love in his ear. At this point, I couldn’t excuse that away. I couldn’t even call it lust, though I’m sure there was some of that mixed around in it too. No, no, this was more much more than that.

“What about…love?”

“Love?”

“Yes.”

He looked at me quizzically, the steam from the bath softening his features. Overhead the stars shined above us, and I tried to articulate my thoughts into words, careful words, that didn’t reveal too much. I gulped.

“I just…If you don’t mind me asking of course—“

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

His eyebrows rose at this, shocked. A moment passed, and I considered taking it back, tried to think of a million and one excuses for my odd question. Kiku leaned against the ledge though, eyes looking upward, and he spoke.

“…I don’t believe I ever have.”

“Really?”

“It’s…it’s strange isn’t it?”

“Oh no, of course not!” I exclaimed, then felt silly for the outburst. I needed to be less passionate about this whole affair; what if he could tell? It was a fact not even I wanted to acknowledge, something I was ashamed of, so I needed to make sure he never found out.

Needed to make sure that ‘no’. I’m not in love, I can explain this all away, this is a fleeting emotion, I’m not in love.

 _I’m not_.

He smiled at me. Oh, what lovely timing. And now I could feel butterflies in my stomach. Wonderful.

“…I am not against the idea though.”

“Pardon?”

“Of falling in love.”

I stayed silent.

“I’m still unlearned about many things.” He continued, “And the idea of falling in love is one of those things. However, If I did find someone like that, for whom I could feel great affection for, then I wouldn’t mind being with them. With how people talk about love, it seems like such a beautiful thing. I’d like to experience that too.”

_It could be me._

“You’re quite pure, aren’t you?” I noticed.

_It could be me. I could be the one._

He blushed. “A-Ah, my apologies. I’m saying such strange things tonight…”

“No, no, don’t worry. It’s fine. Just…”

“Yes?”

_Don’t you see it? Can’t you see it?_

“Do you...Sorry to be rude, but, do you have someone in mind?”

He stared at me, confused. Blushed. And I wanted to blurt it all out then, just speak the words stuck in my throat. Every single thought flying in my head, tell him what I wanted to keep hidden, what I disbelieved.

What I was beginning to accept.

He looked away, frowning. “…Not really. Not right now.”

_What about me? I could be the one. We could be something. Look at me, Kiku._

_Can’t you see it?_

“…And you, Arthur-san?”

I blushed. Oh god, I wanted to hold him so badly at that moment, just wrap my arms around him, pulling our bodies closer. I wanted to hear his heartbeat. Wanted to bury my face into his shoulder. Lose myself in Kiku, kiss him wherever I could. Each and every single of these thoughts disgusted me. What have I become? Wasn’t I used to the idea of keeping distance from fellow nations? Wasn’t I ingrained in the idea of isolation? Were a few acts of kindness from someone as polite as Kiku really enough to send me off the deep end? Was I honestly that desperate?

I smiled weakly, shrugging off the pity party. God, I’m becoming a wreck already.

“…Maybe.”

These weren’t the words I wanted to say.

_Funny you should mention that, luv._

_I do believe I’ve fallen for you, just now._

It was with those thoughts, those dreadful words that I came to accept it. I’m in love. I’m madly in love, and I want and I need and it’s the most pitiful thing, so stupid and despicable. There is no excusing this. It’s such a strong feeling; there was no way to. As much as I’d like to say it’s not love, even I had to admit it. I could lie to myself until I’m blue in the face, but that doesn’t change anything. I’m in love. I know this won’t end well, there’s no such thing as a happy ending for a love affair between two nations. I didn’t know then how right I was, how much it would all hurt. I wish I could’ve told Kiku then that he’d been wrong. When he had said love could be seen as a beautiful thing, well he was wrong, all wrong. Because it’s not. Maybe for humans it could be; with their sickeningly sweet emotions, allowed to love as they wish. But not for us, no. This was going to hurt. Hurt even worse than I imagined then.

I wish I hadn’t fallen in love. For I had a creeping feeling that this lovesickness could be the end of me.

* * *

 

Today it rains, tomorrow it rains.

It’s funny, though, I don’t hate rain. I’ve never hated the rain. It was just another part of London that I was oddly fond of, I found endearing in how exasperating it could be. Like a quirky friend that always caused trouble, all I could find myself doing was shaking my head and smiling at it as if saying ‘Oh what am I to do with _you_ , you rascal’. I can’t really explain it; I just have an unexplainable affection for things like this that reminded me of home. Perhaps it’s another part of being a nation; having pride in certain aspects from your land.

Or maybe I’m just a little odd.

In any case, I found myself watching the rain falling from the safety of an awning in front of a closed shop. It came down in curtains, pooling into puddles on the cobblestone streets. I focused on each drop, on the chill that pervaded through the air, on the soft shush it made. Grey, grey, grey. That’s all I could see before me: various shades of grey. I focused on this so much only because I was trying to stay distracted. Tried to fill my mind with different thoughts, despite the ones that wanted to seize it now. I wasn’t sure if I was wonderfully unfortunate, or terribly lucky. His body warmth barely reached me. Yet still, he stayed by my side, as we shared the awning.

In all these shades of grey, Kiku almost glowed in that setting.

Perhaps he only glowed because I fancied him. Maybe that’s the only reason why. Maybe being in love made you see through rose-colored glasses; such sight that could smooth your beloved’s blemishes, and strengthen their good points. Where we only saw the biased view that put them on a pedestal, and told ourselves ‘yes, _they_ are the one, there is nothing wrong with them _at all_ ’.

What rubbish.

Yet although I told myself that, tried to convince myself that I was just being silly, still I cast side-long glances at him. Looked away. Tried to see as much of him as I could while not being obvious. He looked calm, unaffected. Only a few moments ago I had picked him up at the port, for he had come to visit me again during this alliance. However, suddenly it began to rain and here we took refuge. I tried to think of something to say, anything at all, wanted to ease the mood. I’d been given this chance, and I contemplated on how I could seize it. I also took the moment to scold myself for thinking so much about Kiku, and this situation. He’s just a _friend_ , an _ally_ , by God man, control yourself. I cleared my throat, said the first thing that came to mind.

“This is just terrible.”

It seemed like a fine statement, something everyone could agree on. A random comment on the situation. Looking over to Kiku, I saw he did not respond. However I did notice him shivering, and fought off the strong urge to put an arm around him.

“Are you alright?” I asked instead. He looked over to me, a soft expression on his face. He smiled weakly at me, and turned his attention back to the rain in front of us. He was precise in his movements, classy and refined. I couldn’t help but notice, and felt ridiculous when I did. I just….I just couldn’t stop staring at him. He just fascinated me, very much so.

“Yes; I’m fine.” He assured me, “I’m just sorry that I did not bring an umbrella with me. It’s rather unfortunate.”

It was then my mind flashed back to only a few minutes earlier. As I was just leaving my house, I had glanced to the umbrella holder next to the door. Glancing to the cloudy skies, I went with my instinct and had grabbed one; just in case. Still, I felt it in my left hand, out of Kiku’s view, partially under my coat. I felt embarrassed for having forgotten all about it, and wondered how to offer it to him. If I was out-front about it, would that seem foolish? But how does one offer this casually? I would happily offer to share it with him, but would that seem forward? No, no, of course not, I’m just overthinking this! But I…I shouldn’t seem desperate about this. Just…I need to be subtle. Right. Subtle.

I coughed for his attention.

He remained silent. I began to feel self-conscious and stupid, and coughed again.

Looking back on it now, it was a painful exchange, all just to try to hide my affection. Thankfully, he looked over to me, expectant. I at least managed to spit something out:

“A-Actually it just so happens I brought mine with me. If you don’t mind sharing it, I mean.”

The seconds that passed by then, felt excruciating, felt as if I’d taken a giant risk. Which was stupid, really, I was asking if he wanted to share an umbrella was all, I wasn’t proposing marriage. But I just…it felt kind. A lot. Maybe a bit much. However when I looked over to him (hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt), I saw him smiling politely.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.”

My heart jumped at that. Dear God, if he asked me to carry him home then, I would’ve probably jumped to the chance. Fumbling with the umbrella, I finally opened it with a large _thrap_. We fell in step then, walking on the cobblestone streets, avoiding puddles as we went. And my heart was going crazy, thumping like mad. Over and over again I glanced at him. I wondered what he thought of me. Did he think me a gentleman? Or that I was simply being polite? I wanted Kiku to think of me, as selfish as it was. I wanted to be on his mind. As much as he was on mine, I wanted to be in all his thoughts.

How crazy of me, right?

I tried to silence these feelings, the lovesickness I couldn’t trust. I tried to act casual. I tried not to think of him. The main word here is _try_ though, and I’m sure I’m too lost to really _try_ anymore. My reasonable mind was arguing with my flighty heart. My emotions were battling for dominance, and its whirlwind fought through me. And all the while I fought the urge to put an arm around him, to just slip my hand into his, and hope he would hold it back. I took comfort (such pitiful comfort) in the fact that our shoulders barely brushed though. Sharing an umbrella brought people closer, there’s no lie about that. Whether it’s strictly physical however, or something more though, I couldn’t say.

And in this moment of me trying to be rational, I finally caught him looking at me. Quickly, Kiku looked away, cheeks flushed, eyes downward. It created a pretty picture, and for a moment I indulged myself in a ridiculous, yet lovely thought:

Wouldn’t it be grand if he loved me too?

* * *

In 1911, we had the second renewal of our alliance. My stubborn, and dismal self couldn’t believe it. Kiku liked me enough to want a _second_ renewal to our alliance. A _second_ one. I couldn’t believe it, but I was happy all the same. Our friendship could continue. I’d be lying if I said my affection hadn’t gotten stronger either. We both benefitted nicely from this alliance, and I could be happy for that. But I was also happy to realize that maybe I had a chance. Maybe. Just a bit.

A party was held in a grand hall, filled with many important officials from our respective countries. And of course, we, the nations, were also present. And I received many words of congratulations that evening, was asked how I felt about the whole affair. It was all comfy politics, such things I’ve been used to for all my life, so it was a good event. Yet, funny thing was, I didn’t see him that evening. At all. And it’s…it’s not like I’m desperate or anything, I was just curious as to where he was, and went to go looking for him. This was our event. I should at least see him once.

Or maybe I just wanted to see him.

Near the ending, I noticed his boss asking around for him, and no one had any idea where he had gone off to. I offered to search for him, and accompany him back to their hotel when he was found. He graciously accepted my offer, and when he left, I also did, in search. I considered my actions; was I being polite again? Or did I just want an excuse to get the two of us alone, to have him all to myself? (Not that I had anything perverse in mind, I just…I wanted any chance I could get to see him. That’s all.)

Walking those silent halls, the ones that had been so crowded before, felt a bit jarring. The moonlight shone through the tall windows, their shadows casting patterns on the carpeted floor. Its image was a bit fuzzy to me, the wine I’d had before making me a bit tipsy. But I continued on anyway, on my informal quest. In this silent, ornate hall, with a single goal in my mind, it almost reminded me of a fairytale. A man looking through a scenic and desolate place for the one he loved. All that were missing were the rose vines and the sleeping servants.

Perhaps I’d find Kiku asleep somewhere, on a couch maybe. Perhaps I’d have to wake him up with a kiss.

I blushed at the thought, frowning, thoroughly ashamed of myself. What was I thinking? Honestly, was I this drunk? Fairytales, what nonsense. As if the real world could offer me a fairytale’s moment. I shrugged off such inane thoughts, such inane and beautiful thoughts. I’ve lived a long enough life to know when to be realistic. Cynicism wasn’t something that went away. Once it infected a person, it wasn’t something that could be cured, neither ignored.

But perhaps this love was something that stopped the symptoms for a while. A temporary medicine, which eased the pain. With my head a little off, and my heart full of happiness, perhaps I could indulge myself. Just this once, maybe it was ok.

The only sounds in that building were the distant noises of a city, and my cushioned footsteps.

For a moment, I considered my supposed ‘cure’, my feelings for Kiku. I couldn’t deny I was in love, I was far past the point to even be considering that. No, rather, I’d already bemoaned the fact that I’d fallen in love with an ally, a fellow nation. But there was no stopping my feelings, my desperate heart. So rather, I entertained the thoughts of what this meant, of where this could go.

Well, I suppose it was the same with anyone in love; it all depended on if he loved me back. For now, I would have to continue my pining, continue to be plagued with my restless dreams and thoughts. It’s so crazy, almost bordering on deranged, for how obsessed I’d become. So many people describe lovelorn people as poetic and tragic, but honestly it’s just creepy fixation. You can try to make it sound as pretty as you want; we’re still unhealthy and possessed in the end. Thinking back on this, I wonder if this really was a cure for my pessimistic nature, or if this was another sickness to merely distract me from my previous one.

Ah.

It all made sense now.

Why they call it ‘lovesickness’, why such a beautiful word as ‘love’ is coupled with something so miserable as ‘sickness’. Because it shows both sides of the same coin, the uplifting nature of love, and the wallowing despair of that same feeling. To be in love with someone is both invigorating and depressing. It’s such a wild and crazy emotion, and right now I suffered from it. I was in love. I was lovesick.

I realized this as I rounded the corner and caught sight of him. The image of my beloved, standing in front of a window, the moonlight hitting him just right. There he stood, alone and lovely in that hallway. He turned to look at me, handsome in his military uniform, cheeks flushed, eyes sleepy.

There he stood, the one who had infected me with this sickness, the one who had left me ill and breathless.

“Arthur-san.” He greeted me, and I smiled sheepishly in return. Every time he said my name (my human name, the more personal one) my heart skipped a beat. This time was no different. I walked towards him, and spoke:

“What’re you doing here, Kiku? The party’s already ended.”

He looked flustered for a moment, looked downward, cheeks reddening more. Getting closer I could see there was something in his stance, the way he held himself that seemed different. And with the faint scent of alcohol I realized he might’ve been just as tipsy as me.

“H-Has it? My apologies.” He bowed his head a bit, “I lost track of time. How irresponsible of me.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” I shook my head, “Just fine. You alright?”

“I’m…I’m just fine.”

“You sure?”

He frowned, looked up to me apologetically. It was such a cute sight, I almost felt like I’d just grab him then, embrace him sweetly. He gulped and shook his head.

“I…I believe I’m a bit inebriated. That’s actually the reason I excused myself. Once again, I’m…I’m sorry.”

It was rare for me to see Kiku in such a state. He was a level-headed person, who rarely treated himself. In this surreal atmosphere, with Kiku in a way I’d never seen him, for a moment I wondered if I was dreaming. Maybe this was all a dream, my subconscious giving me a chance to evaluate myself and my situation, try to teach me some lessons. I realized this was a silly thought though, and waved it away. Instead I patted Kiku on his back, gently, and he looked at me again.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” I smiled, “Happens to the best of us. Want me to take you back to your hotel?”

“Yes, I would like that. You’re too kind.”

“Don’t thank me. We’re allies, Kiku, I’m just doing what’s right.”

We began walking down that hall, and he remained silent. His gaze was focused on the floor, and I felt something in the air then. Something a bit off, like something was about to happen. When he looked back up to me, face serious, I tried to predict what would happen next, but my cynical self couldn’t foresee such a thing, was too distrustful to believe in miracles.

“You treat me so well, Arthur-san.” He stated, and it made my heart leap. However, he wouldn’t let me respond to such words, and continued, “You’re always looking out for me. I…”

He trailed off, and looked downward. I realized how close we stood next to each other, and in the most wishful part of my mind, I wanted him to grab hold of my hand. To do away with words, and guessing, and to just show me he wanted more. With one simple action to show me how he felt, and assure me he was just as sick as me. That we were both lovesick.

“May I say something?” He asked, eyes clear, tone strong. I felt my knees go weak, wanted him to make a move, and nodded.

“O-Of course. What is it?”

I waited for words. Specifically, three words, three syllables, something to cure me. For now, I hushed the realistic side of me, believed that if this really was a dream, then it would come true. As Kiku tried to muster up the courage, I thought of how I would respond, of how sweet the words would sound on his tongue.

I wondered how it would be like to kiss him.

Finally, he spoke. But he lacked a word, a syllable, my cure:

“Thank you.”

For a moment, I thought I’d misheard.

“S-Sorry?”

He looked forward again, as we walked in step, his hand so close, but his heart so far from me.

“Thank you for your kindness. I…I want to express my gratitude for this alliance. You’ve done so much for my country and me, and I just…I want to say thank you, Arthur-san.” He smiled gently, “You are one of the greatest friends I’ve ever had.”

_I could be more._

Slowly, the darker thoughts of me came to surface, the needy and desperate ones, and I hated myself for it.

 _I could be more, Kiku._ We _could be more. I love you, I love you so much. Just give me the chance, I want to take care of you, I want to make you happy, I want to love you. Don’t you see, Kiku? Don’t you see? I’m ill. I’m unwell. I’m lovesick._

_I need you._

_I love you._

I felt like throwing up. I wasn’t certain if it was because of the alcohol or because I was disgusted with myself, but I tried to quell whatever was hurting me. Honestly, what was wrong with me? I remained silent though, my mind searching for a proper response. I’m not going to lie; I was very flattered. I don’t believe anyone’s told me that, informed me that I was one of their greatest friends, have ever had the honor of holding such a position. I’m a distant person, content on my rainy little island. Yes, I’ve had alliances before, I’ve fought alongside other nations, yet…yet this was different. This wasn’t just to benefit our countries, this wasn’t just a desperate move to ensure survival in this cruel world. This was _personal_ , this was _different_ , this was…

This was… _special_.

And although I was happy to hear that, extremely grateful and even thrilled it…it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted more, so much more.

But I ignored that part of me. For now, I stayed content with his honest words and looked to him. Smiled.

“I…I feel the same, Kiku. You’re a very good friend and I’m happy I met you.”

_And I love you._

_I’m madly in love with you._

I didn’t say this of course. As much as I wanted to spill out my heart to him, I didn’t. It didn’t feel right with him smiling at me like that, as he cast his glance downward, cheeks growing red. Whether he was giddy from the alcohol, or generally happy I wasn’t sure. But I wanted to tell myself this was all true and not just the drunk words of an easily swayed man. I wanted a moment that was pure and sweet. Although it fell short, although it did not meet my expectations that was my own fault and none of Kiku’s. So I cherished this moment, our raw feelings laid bare, something I had never experienced before.

I wondered when I could tell him. When the moment would be right. Maybe I really could have a moment like that, though. I remained hopeful that someday I could tell Kiku my feelings, and that maybe, just maybe, he would return them. That we could be something more than just friends, could be something wonderful and beautiful.

I knew, however, that moment was not now.

Right now, this was for something different. But I was assured that I would get to have my love confession. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even this year or next year. But someday, I could tell him.

That maybe it could be ok to say such a thing. That maybe even a nation like myself had a chance at love.

“Arthur-san?”

I wanted love to be possible. I wanted to have hope. I wanted to love Kiku.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright? You seem a bit…sad.”

I was quiet for a moment. Confused.

“Ah, do I? Sorry, it’s nothing. I’m just…I’m fine.” I smiled to him, and his worries seemed to disappear, the moonlight shining on his black hair, his face as kind as ever.

I think, most of all, I wanted Kiku to love me too.

* * *

 

Slowly, ever slowly I saw the ending of our alliance came into view. This wasn’t anything new to me; it was laughable to think an alliance between two nations would last for an entire lifetime. Years perhaps. Months maybe. But either way, no matter what, it would end. Undoubtedly, like clockwork, all good things come to an end.

I was supposed to be used to this. I was supposed to just let this roll off my shoulders and just go on my merry way. So it didn’t work out; so what? How did I expect this to be any different?

Well, because I was in love. It was as simple—and as infuriating—as that.

At this point I was extremely frustrated at myself, at my reasoning. I knew this was how it would end, so how _dare_ I act so sad. I’d been constantly warning myself from the start and yet still I…I felt sad. This lovesickness made me foolish, so I tried my best to ignore it.

Even now as Kiku stared at me icily from across the table. The paperwork laid between us, signed and discussed, a done deal. Already the affair was done, and yet still I cried out for him. His callous words and looks stung me and I wanted to tell him _No, I didn’t want it to end this way, please understand._

I doubt my words could reach him now, though. Already, I fear I’ve lost him. Could I really blame him, too, seeing as how I’ve treated him? Do I really deserve his love after acting so cruelly?

“So you understand, right?” I voiced to him, going through the motions, trying not to meet his gaze. “It's beneficial for all of us. The best bet would be to just end the alliance now. Don't you agree?"

What was I saying honestly? This wasn’t what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell Kiku that these were England’s words, not Arthur’s and that Arthur is extremely sorry and feels terrible for what he’s done. However, I’m well aware Kiku is not here and the man that sits in front of me now is Japan.

He was quiet for a moment. Stoic. He’d been rather standoffish to me lately, his behavior growing colder with each meeting. Slowly Kiku was becoming lost to me, as he reverted to keeping me at a distance. Our friendship seemed like such a distant memory then, as if it had all been a dream. How had it come to this? My love, what have I done?

Japan looked down to the meeting room table, avoiding my gaze. Outside I could hear it beginning to rain, and suddenly it seemed too sad to me. For before that warm, calm rain had comforted me, now it only served to sadden the mood more. He looked back up to me, eyes uncaring, and I wondered where my love had gone.

“…I assume you find no more benefit from this alliance?”

His cruel words cut into me. Yet still, I remained just as stoic as him, tried to play my part, for I knew this was my fate and it was how I was supposed to be. Over and over the rational side of me told me ‘I told you so’s and I ignored them for now. Later, I could wallow in self-pity, but for now he was in front of me. Angry, unsatisfied, and rightly so.

I leaned backward into my chair, gazing out the window, avoiding his gaze. On and on, the sky poured down, a soft grey shush that stained this room a dark shade. I had a sudden urge to cry then, but choked back the want, tried to compose myself into something mechanical and heartless. I tried to lock away the words and feelings of Arthur, and let England play his part. I wanted to do this gently, wanted to ease the blow I was to deal to him, but I realized there was no way to do that. Either way, the outcome would hurt him, so I realized I might as well do this quickly; as if pulling off a bandage.

"No. My bosses have agreed that to keep up this alliance would be a hindrance. However with the Four Powers treaty all of us would benefit. Do you see? The pros outweigh the cons."

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. This is just how it is, I’m sorry._

This is what it meant to be a nation. We put our people before our feelings. Why hadn’t I stayed faithful to those beliefs? If I had, would I be hurting as much as I am now?

I glanced back to Kiku. His lip was a thin line, his eyes a dull color, his body stiff and his mood obvious. At that moment I wished he could read my mind, and see how I really felt, realize this wasn’t what I wanted at all. Arthur was crying out for his love, and I could not voice his words. And I realized it would just end like this, bitterly and painfully as Kiku spoke again.

"…You no longer have us in your interest."

It was as if he crushed my heart underneath his heel at that moment. But I remained calm, frowned, defended myself.

"I didn't say that-"

"You don't need to. I understand completely what you're saying."

He stood up from his seat then, and it was all so lost to me. I wanted to say a million things to make him understand, but it was all happening at once. It was exactly what I warned myself against, and it was just a lesson learned. I could feel my legs shaking, and I told myself to just let it happen. This was how it would be, and there was nothing I could do about it and…and…

… _And I don’t want that!_

I love him. For once, I’ve let myself fall in love, and I want to believe, _I want to have hope_ , that this will work out. I could not take this lying down. I couldn’t lose him now. The person who has infected me with this lovesickness, someone I was willing to fight for.

“Kiku-!”

“It’s _Japan,_ thank you.”

But it’s not so easy. It’s never so easy. I could feel a lump forming in my throat, but bit back tears, tried not to let this lovesickness overtake me. And Kiku (no, Japan) continued on, staring me straight on, his figure powerful in the dim room.

"I understand that you no longer have our interests in mind. Fine then. I see where our relationship stands."

"Kiku, sit back down."

_Hear me out, please, I don’t want it to end this way. I’m sorry for my weakness, I’m sorry I’m a nation, I’m sorry I can’t give you better. I love you, I love you, I love you._

Yet desperately as I tried, these words would not come out. It was my moment and my body fought against me. Those words stayed stuck in my throat, and I could feel my hands shaking and tried to say something, _anything_ , but I fear I made him angrier. For his scowl turned more fierce and he shook his head.

"I think we're done here."

He turned on his heel then, and I called out for him again. His human name, for I know I’ve lost Japan, but I didn’t want Japan. I wanted Kiku, I wanted Kiku to hear me out, to listen. I wanted him to understand, that I know I’m hurting him, that my position has turned me against him, and that the feelings of Arthur hasn’t changed. They never will. For he is sick, so very sick, and his condition is fatal at this point.

Oh, how heavy a burden a heart is.

Kiku did not turn around. Japan did not turn around. The door shut behind him, and I thought of running after him, but my knees felt weak, and I stayed there. The cold quiet room felt so small to me, and I felt it all hit me.

Why even bother? It’s not…it’s not as if it meant that much. It’s just…It’s just _love_ , for God’s sake. I didn’t need it. I’d been living just fine without it, so what point would it be to try to patch this up with him? I just…my chance is gone. It’s over.

… _Goddammit._

It’s not! It’s not I… _I want to have hope!_ I want to believe we have a chance, I want to be the stupid fool in love, that although the world has proven him wrong, he keeps trying. I’ve listened enough to reason, of wallowing in my thoughts. I’ve had enough of pining, of sitting at the sidelines.

I wanted to fight for this.

I got up from my chair then, and dashed out of the meeting hall. And after opening the doors with flourish I could see him just leaving the complex, still within earshot. This was it, my chance, my show to prove that I _was_ in love and that I would finally do something about this. I wanted him to understand.

I wanted him to know.

“ _Kiku!_ ”

He didn’t turn.

Perhaps the pounding rain was too loud a sound. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, and yelled again, my voice carrying.

“Kiku! Kiku, wait!”

He kept walking on.

Slowly, the grey mist swallowed him, and he was gone. At that moment, I could feel my knees go weak, and it was as if I’d been punched in the stomach.

The harsh sound of the rain amplified in my ears, and all my thoughts drained away.

At first I could feel my chest tighten. It was then I noticed warmness in the rain that fell on me, something different from the drops. The chocking feeling in my throat, and then the dizziness I felt.

It took me awhile, but I finally noticed I was crying.

* * *

 

December of 1921 marked the ending of our alliance. The bond we had and the friendship we formed soon crumbled before our eyes.

I can rightly say it was my fault. I can’t entirely say this was the fault of my bosses, because I also had a part in it as well. It was all a mess really, how it ended up like that. The alliance was losing its benefits. America was getting antsy. It was all a blur really, a confusion of politics and different sides, and in the end it was my weakness that did me in. I accept the blame. For it was exactly as I had suspected would happen, it was exactly what I had been saying since the start. I am a nation before I am ‘Arthur’ and I would have to follow my boss’ orders before I could follow my own heart. This end was inevitable and it was a routine I was used to and that was that. I would simply clean my hands of the affair and forget what we had, and go on my way. Sign the Four Powers treaty and treat Japan as just another nation, no longer a friend.

I wanted to say that I didn’t feel anything, but that would be a lie.

I didn’t want to lose him. If I surmised all this angst and despair into one reason, tried to explain it, I would simply say this is as bad as my symptoms are. My lovesickness has reached critical condition. Here I am, the hypocrite, the dying man, Arthur Kirkland madly in love, yet hopeful. But put aside my lovelorn poetry, honestly, I was just nearing heartbreak.

I’ve done a lot of thinking since our last parting. Unintentional thinking, thoughts that I tried to ignore but couldn’t. Thoughts about love, about my decision, and most importantly about Kiku.

After much soul searching and heavy sighs, I’ve come to various conclusions.

For one, I was still in love with Kiku. Try as I might to stop that it wasn’t something I could simply do away with. Try as I might, it was there to stay.

Second, there could only be two endings to my lovesickness. Either I would reach heartbreak (terrible, saddening, a persistent fate) or he would return my feelings (unlikely and impossible).

Lastly, I still have hope. I realize it’s hypocritical of me. I know it’s foolish. Yet no matter how many times I try to convince myself a part of me still finds hope, still survives.

It was amazing really.

I’m sure Kiku was still angry with me and he had every reason to be. Yet still somehow, _someway,_ I still believed I had a chance. Perhaps I was being optimistic, perhaps my lovesickness made me delusional. Even now I wanted to confess my feelings and hope he would return them kindly.

Thankfully enough, I might have that chance today. Under a rainy sky, under a black umbrella, my heart was aching yet strangely eager. Ready to break, but hoping for the best.

I walked around the puddles in the sparse streets of Kyoto, admired the scenery. Even as it was coated with rain and grey, the land here was still picturesque and subtle. My admiration for Kiku grew this far, and I followed the path to his home. I knew it by heart now, and vaguely I worried this would be the last time in a long while I could take such a walk.

Today I was here to pick the last of my things from his place. Small, insignificant things I have lent him. I haven’t had a chance to speak to him on a personal level since our last meeting; since then we’ve been acting as England and Japan, everything business-related and curt. I hoped that this chance I would finally be able to speak to him as Arthur, finally allow him the time to speak to his Kiku.

I was hopeful. This was an all-or-nothing meeting, so over and over in my head I wondered how I would greet him. What I would say. It was something that had even plagued my thoughts on the boat ride here. And, to be honest, I still haven’t found the words despite the time I’ve had.

They just never seemed enough. There was so much to say, so much built up, and so much in me there was no way I could voice it all. I had to find a way to reach his heart, but I just hadn’t found it yet.

Perhaps I was overthinking it. I’ve been doing that a lot since I’ve fallen in love.

I didn’t entertain the thought of what would happen if he rejected me though. Despite my pessimism it was one thought I tried to avoid. I was too scared of what would happen, so desperately clinging to the possibility of a happy ending. I wanted this to work out. I was so sure it would.

Finally, I reached his house. I remembered a time when I’ve done this before, stubbornly presenting him a bouquet of flowers. I never knew what would happen when I had approached his house. I had never known it would come to this point.

I should’ve bought flowers.

This time, I knocked on the door, folding my umbrella. After a long moment, he opened the door. What struck me most were his eyes, tired and cold.

“Good day, England-san.”

His reference to my nation name stung me. I shrugged it off though, and nodded. “Good to see you, Kiku.”

I wanted to say something then. Anything. But before I could muster up the words, he moved aside, allowing me entrance. As I walked in, he bowed his head.

“Please wait here as I get your things.”

And with that he was gone and my chance was lost. I stood there awkwardly, the muffled sound of the rain behind me, my umbrella light in my hand. I coughed, and wondered for a moment if I should follow after, but it seemed quite clear he wanted this over as soon as possible. I wished it didn’t have to be that way, but…but what could I do honestly.

I caught my reflection in the mirror in his entranceway. Examined my pale face and weary eyes. I think this whole affair has us all stressed. But it didn’t have to be this way. What could I say to him when he got back though? Still, I was grasping.

Should I just blurt it out when he came back? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m in love with you. Have been for a while.’ No, no it was too sudden. Bordering on crazy. Perhaps I could ask him how he’s been doing? Ease him back into it, show that I meant no harm. Just…I didn’t want us to be like this. We didn’t even have to be lovers just…I wanted to mean something to him. Something that didn’t fill him with spite.

When I looked back he rounded the corner, face still solemn. He held out the box to me, and that’s when I took my chance.

“How have you been?”

My voice sounded strange to me then. Somehow strained. He frowned at me, yet was patient all the same. Kiku was polite if anything else.

“I have been well. Thank you for asking. Your things-“

“Are you sure?”

He paused. Looked up at me. I knew I was facing Japan then, but I wanted Kiku. I just wasn’t sure how I could have him show that side of himself to me. If I was going to confess it was going to be to the man I love, dammit, not a façade he wore. I stayed where I was, not daring to back down. Perhaps he’d get the message. Maybe he’d understand.

He looked down at the wooden box he held, the only thing keeping me here. With the mood dark, and all actions meaningful he spoke weakly.

“I…I must admit, I’ve had better days.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked up, confused. Now was my chance, and I spoke carefully.

“I’m…I’m sorry for what’s happened. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. Kiku I…I never wanted it to be this way. Please understand.”

And there it was. Just like that, I gave him my apology and the spotlight was on him now. Where this would go would depend on his answer. I watched his face for any change, for any indication for what would come next. He only shook his head, unsmiling, serious.

“Arthur-san there’s no need for apology. It’s already done.” He raised the box again, “Thank you for your time, as short as it was.”

I’m not stupid. I took the hint. I took the passive aggressive blow too. Of course I took it all, stunned, unsure, my resolve weakened. He was always good at being vague and placing his true message between the lines. I knew what this meant.

This was goodbye.

I took the box, trying to think of what to say. Tried to think up a proper response. And as I nodded my head at him, turned towards the door, opened it myself, I realized maybe this was the proper ending. This is just how it is with nations; we get together, we break apart, we make friendships, the next day we’re enemies. It’s always been like this, since the dawn of time. Everything’s temporary, and we just have to live with that. It’s just how our fate is. And that’s how this was too; just another alliance of mine made and then ended. Just another page in my history book. I left then, as he closed the door behind me, but another realization struck me.

…I wanted more.

I wanted more than this.

It meant more to me than just an alliance. I’d fallen in love. And dear God, if that didn’t mean something to me. For once I had hope, for once in my whole life I wanted something and I…

…I want it.

I want it so very much.

If there really is a God, some sort of merciful higher being, than all I’m asking for is this. I want to be in love. I want him to know.

I just want one last chance.

Before I knew it, with the cold of the outside pressing against me, I turned around sharply, grabbing the edge of the closing door, stopping it in its path. He looked up, surprise, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

“I’m sorry.”

He still looked at me confused, and the pounding of the rain filled in my ears. I soldiered on, laying my heart bare, forgetting any sort of formalities. At that moment, I was only Arthur, terribly hopeful and lovesick.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry for how it’s ended. Please just…just understand I didn’t want it to be this way. Kiku I…”

I began to choke up, but I swallowed, and with the strongest voice I could muster I told him. Finally, for once.

“Kiku, I love you. I’m…I’m in love with you.”

His eyes widened. And then, it was only the rain that spoke.

A long moment passed and I waited for any change in his facial expression, waited for a response. Perhaps he’d embrace me, and reveal he’s madly in love too. Maybe he’d just smile. I waited so long for this, but I never got it and I never will. His eyes dropped, his head ducked, he frowned. I didn’t like these signs and I knew this wouldn’t end well.

Most of the time, lovesickness never does.

“You…you mean it?”

“I do.”

He looked back up. His face said it all then: discomfort. Unhappy. As well as he tried to hide it I knew. I had already known from the start.

“I…” he gulped, “I am very happy to hear you feel such a way. I’m flattered. However…”

He shook his head. “However, I do not feel the same, Arthur-san. I’m…I’m very sorry.”

And with that, my heart broke. It was funny how such a sentence could do so much to me.

I felt dizzy, felt my stomach lurch. The world seemed deafened all of a sudden, greyed out almost. His words repeated themselves in my mind over and over and looking back up his eyes were full of pity.

How dare he.

“I…I see.” I nodded, and any sort of despair seemed to trickle away as something set back in its place. Something so grossly inappropriate at this time, but just seemed so horrifically right. “So…So this whole time I was just an ally. I see. Alright.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying!” Kiku spoke, his tone kind, “I…I must admit I did cherish your friendship. However, I…I never loved you.”

I wanted to be cruel then. What else was I expecting why did I even confess, this was all so bloody stupid. I had been such a fool, of course he would reject me, of course. The first time I have hope, I try to fight for something, I’m shot down.

Wasn’t that how it was the first time too? I’d been so pathetic then, and I’m pathetic now.

It’s even raining, just as it had been then.

Oh how ironic.

I chuckled then, and it sounded poisonous to my ears. It was as if I was watching myself do this, and Kiku looked at me surprised, scared.

“Right then. Never loved me, that’s fine. It’s not as if you need to I just…just wanted you to know.” I looked at him, and how I looked now made him jump, “Is it because I broke it off? That why?”

“No, that is…”

“Oh, alright. Fine then. Great, that’s just perfect.” I laughed again, “Just bloody well perfect. Thanks so much for your time then Kiku, as short as it was.”

I didn’t even know what I was saying. But I couldn’t stop myself, and he frowned at me, angry. What the hell was I doing. I’m such a fool.

“…Arthur-san.” His voice was strict, “I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings, but I don’t appreciate your tone either. My apologies, but my feelings remain the same.”

“Of course they do. You don’t need to talk down to me either.”

“…I am not.”

So that was that. The end. The end of this completely pathetic and almost pitiful love story. What a stupid and unnecessary affair this all was. To think I’d actually indulge myself in this. Why didn’t I learn my lesson? Why did I give it another chance?

And dear God why was I saying these things to them.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

“Right.” I nodded, and it’s then I felt the tears stinging my eyes. Oh no. No I would not cry in front of him. Not now. I wanted to be anywhere then here now, and yet strangely I didn’t want to leave his side. “Then. Then goodbye, Kiku. Thank you for everything.”

I wanted to say ‘I love you’ again, but I feared I’d be tarnishing my image even more, so I didn’t. Before he could respond, I closed his front door myself and ran. I didn’t even bother opening my umbrella, didn’t even bother noticing the rain. Try as I might, I kept replaying that last meeting in my mind over and over, going over the script, alternately pitying myself and hating myself. After a good distance had been made, I looked up at the sky, as the rain drenched me.

This was exactly how it was supposed to be.

I felt a bitter laugh bubble at the back of my throat, and I realized this was how it was supposed to be all along. Why did I even try to be anything else? I knew this from the start; a nation could never love another nation. It was never meant to be. I closed my eyes, focused on the cold biting into my bones. Slowly, ever slowly, I became numb and felt my chest rise and fall with each breath. I counted each one, and I felt myself settle back into what I was used to, my routine, how I was supposed to be.

The feelings of Arthur soon deafened and died, the maturity and coldness of England setting back in. It was an odd feeling, shutting off a part of you. But it was a technique I was used to, and I just let it happen.

That was the day my lovesickness came to an end, the day my heart broke, the day I stopped believing in love.

Well, it was the end I had been expecting. Should I really be surprised? It was nothing new. However, to be honest, I had hoped it would be different. I wanted Kiku to be the one to prove me wrong, to give me hope, to make it all ok.

But it wasn’t ok. It wasn’t ok at all.


End file.
